


The Chilling Possession of Ryan Bergara

by JosephineFiore



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Almost Established Relationship Like It's Right There, But From The Possession, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual violence, Hurt Ryan Bergara, Idiots in Love, Kisses, M/M, Mutual Pining, Possession, Protective Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineFiore/pseuds/JosephineFiore
Summary: Something sinister latches onto Ryan Bergara.And it won't let him go.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	The Chilling Possession of Ryan Bergara

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, if you're willing, I want to take you all on a JOURNEY. I've been thinking about writing a story with this pairing for a long time, because the CHEMISTRY, and really wanted to dive into this kind of creepy plot, of course having been inspired by Buzzfeed Unsolved and then thinking, 'what-if?' I mean no disrespect to anyone I write about and understand this is a works of fiction from my mind. This works will be multi-chaptered but hopefully not span out for too long! With that being said, I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think <3 (P.S. I USE SO MANY ITALICS AND '-' FOR EMPHASIS BUT IT'S JUST A PERSONAL STYLE)

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we investigate the Wickham Pines Estate in New Haven, Connecticut, as part of our ongoing investigation into the question- ‘ _Are ghosts real?_ ’”

He can see the miniscule shake of Shane’s head in his periphery, and has to smother the reflexive twitch of his lips as a burst of fluttering warmth dances in his stomach unbidden. Choosing not to acknowledge the habitual baiting from the older man, he instead aims his focus on their vast surroundings, appraising the dark expanse of forest encircling the property.

Another icy gust blows by their little setup, causing Ryan to grit his teeth and shift his weight from foot-to-foot. As he moves, in an effort to keep _some_ circulation left in his toes, he can feel the vague heat radiating off of Shane as their jacketed arms rustle up against one another. He has to force himself not to lean into its enticing call- for multiple reasons that would be deemed inappropriate for the camera, _and their_ _friendship_ \- as he barrels onward.

“While these grounds have resulted in multiple reports of ghost sightings by locals and tourists alike, Wickham Pines is most notoriously known for its sinister history involving _Witchcraft_ and-“

“Ooo, are we in store for some _Hocus Pocus_ shenanigans tonight?” Shane’s gleeful voice reaches his ears as he twists to face Ryan, hunching himself down in order to be heard over the wind’s intensifying currents.

Ryan purses his lips as he challengingly slits his eyes towards his counterpart. He opens his mouth, prepared to kickstart the episode’s inevitable bickering, _so_ ready to cut the other man down a peg, _or_ _two_. But when he brings his gaze upwards and locks eyes with Shane- all cutting words are suddenly forgotten on his tongue.

His deep-set, downturned eyes are crinkling at the corners, a vibrant glint shining in them. The tip of his narrow, chiseled nose is faintly tinged crimson, as well as the apples of his slim cheeks. His pink, slightly chapped lips are pulled upwards in amusement, contrasting the slightly exasperated twist to them. A seemingly trademarked expression for Shane at this point- at least, whenever the situation involved _Ryan_ or _Unsolved_.

Or _both_.

Even so, Shane still humors him, for _some_ _reason-_ when he becomes impassioned over his research and can’t contain his enthusiasm- gazing at Ryan indulgently with an unguarded smile that Ryan is _entirely_ too much of a coward to analyze or do shit about.

Ryan’s eyes adamantly track the way Shane’s tumbling hair flows faintly in the breeze, the brown edges curling slightly on the sides of his neck. His beard has grown out enough for it to be considered more than stubble at this point, its recent presence having caught Ryan’s attention on more than one occasion, _unfortunately_.

Like back at the office, for example, where Shane could usually be found sitting at his desk, which is right next to Ryan's, lazily running a hand over those bristly hairs while staring at his laptop- typically lost in thought or hard-at-work on whatever project he’d taken up that particular week.

Ryan had gotten caught in the act more often than he’d like to admit, completely zoning out on those long, calloused fingers idly playing with each strand. His efforts in being subtle weren’t nearly as successful as he ever hoped they were. Even _he_ could reluctantly admit this- seeing as he’d normally snap out of his _ogling_ around the time he finally noticed the other man gazing back just as intently, apparently examining Ryan’s own features in return.

Ryan couldn’t help but acquiesce, on the rare occasions when he allowed himself to, that he and Shane hadn’t been _subtle_ for a long time, at least not with each other.

Nevertheless, it had become a recurring reflex to snap his eyes back to his own screen, thankful, _and_ _not for the first time_ _,_ that his skin complexion didn’t easily display the hot flush he’d feel crawling down his neck all the way to his chest.

He’s forever grateful _\- to whoever his guardian angel is that puts up with his utter bullshit everyday-_ that Shane never calls him out, never outright acknowledges Ryan’s behavior, especially when it, _more often than not_ , becomes especially prevalent when the two of them are together.

Maybe he indulges Ryan as to not embarrass him. Or, maybe- _maybe_ \- Shane is _waiting_ for Ryan to call _himself_ out-

A beat of silence passes before Ryan jolts back to reality, ripped out of his memories and wishful thinking, and realizes that he’s _definitely_ missed the appropriate timeslot to respond, and is currently _standing_ there like a _fucking_ moron, just _gawking_ at Shane- _fuck_ , _fuck, fuck_.

He wracks his brain for something, _anything_ to say- _words, idiot!-_ as he rushes to rectify his slip-up, hoping the reddening of his cheeks under the glare of their intense production lights can be passed off as the frigid weather slowly numbing his entire body- _which it is_ , to be fair.

“I’d say if we _were_ to run into any kind of witches tonight, it would be more of a _Blair Witch_ type situation, Big Guy.” He counters, throwing in a last-minute chuckle as an afterthought, _aiming_ for unphased as he looks towards the old cottage, _praying_ that he doesn’t seem _completely_ flustered.

Hopefully in post-production, the editors will simply pass off the _painfully_ extended pause as Ryan gathering the _mental fortitude_ to endure Shane’s antics for the rest of the night, after hearing the taller man’s tongue-in-cheek inquiry. Which is pretty _par for the course_ at this point in their combined career path _._

Thankfully, Shane is _Shane_ , and since he’s used to all of Ryan’s weird and unexpected mannerisms by now, he masterfully rolls with the punches, _Ryan’s_ punches.

Shane full-on grins, his curved eyebrows raising exaggeratedly with delight as he leans back in feigned surprise, tone _overly_ thrilled.

“What an absolute _treat_ that would be, to find you standing in the corner of a basement, completely unresponsive- what a _delight_ , Ryan!” An unexpected, deep-bellied cackle emerges from Ryan, an involuntary noise that he _hates_ , sounding high-pitched and nasally and tittering, as if he’s choking on his own laughter.

Ryan’s already brought a fist up to his mouth as he tries to suppress his mirth, his shoulders shaking in tremors, only to see Shane gazing back at him with a genuine tilt to his lips, standing even straighter than before- probably _proud_ of himself for catching Ryan off-guard with his dumb joke.

“Dude, what the _fuck_? If anyone was going to be turned into a witch’s little puppet, it would be you! You’d piss her off so much by calling her a _fake_ and _mocking_ her, and end up walking straight into some satanic trap!” Some snickers are _still_ escaping his lips sporadically, but Shane just looks all-too pleased with himself as he immediately jumps at the chance to add-on to Ryan’s imaginary scenario.

“Actually, _Ryan_ , I think she’d choose _you_ to be her _little_ puppet, since you’re already the right size to be one-” Ryan’s face instantly goes blank, turning to look into the camera with a deadpan expression, already formulating a few comebacks for the _Big Guy_. He knows the fans eat this kind of stuff up, the constant bantering between them due to their contrasting physical differences to one another.

If he’s being honest- not that he’d ever _admit_ to it, _especially not to Shane_ \- he kind of loves it, _thrives_ on it, their back-and-forth.

He never had to be worried about offending the other man, because Shane _always_ gave as good as he got- that was a guarantee. And, _oh_ _boy_ , was Ryan anticipating this as he revved up a few retorts in the back of his mind.

The refreshing _effortlessness_ that came with their jokes and little jabs, knowing it was all in good fun and an integral part of their dynamic, absolutely exhilarated Ryan. It was a feeling that scared him quite a bit at first- when he realized just how _high_ off of Shane he could get; it was positively _addictive_ being around him.

“-and can you imagine how _hilarious_ it would be, if we found you in a dark room, _all alone_ \- and you turned around like _this_ -“

Shane turns his back to the crew and Ryan, slouching over as he does so. After a few moments pass, he slowly pivots on his bent legs, revealing his _ridiculous_ expression- which has morphed so that Shane’s chocolate-brown eyes are as wide as they can go, almost bulging with their intensity- appearing stupefied, with his lips formed into the shape of an ‘o.’

Ryan’s already beginning to lose it _again_ , biting down on his lip, _hard_. His shoulders are jumping up and down as he squints his eyes, barely able to keep them _open_ at this point, watching Shane’s bit, fucking _captivated_.

Shane’s long arms are bent slightly at the joints, neck hidden by his hunched limbs, making the lanky man look completely _ludicrous_. Then, while looking off into the distance, he lifts one- _stupid_ \- pointed finger, purposefully twitching it, and says in his most _convincing_ ‘ghoul’ voice-

“T’was a w-w-witch that haunts these halls, and y-you’re _next_!” Shane finishes his statement by flailing his upper body around, making him look _utterly_ similar to one of those inflatable tube men that get stuck in the front of used-car lots.

At this point, Ryan and more than half of the crew have completely lost it, all in varying states of uselessness, ranging anywhere from giggling demurely to outright _howling_ with breathlessness- Ryan, _namely_ , being the lone contender in the latter category.

Ryan couldn’t care _less_ that they’ll probably have to do another take- _or three,_ more likely- before they get _the_ _one_. He’d learnt to anticipate this sort of thing, seeing as _him_ , plus _Shane_ , plus _pre-learnt scripts_ and _lines_ and _being_ _serious_ , wasn’t a formula that typically gave the most productive results.

And just as he predicts, while still bent over, his stomach hurting _in the best way_ , he hears Devon sigh defeatedly _\- sorry, Dev-_ and yell an obligatory ‘ _cut_!’ to everyone on set, when it becomes apparent that not enough people have their _shit_ together for them to continue effectively.

To her right, TJ dutifully gives a two-minute call, well-versed on the average amount of recovery time it usually takes for the crew to reset, _and_ for Ryan and Shane to get back-to-business.

By the time he can compose himself enough to stand upright, Ryan can’t help but notice that everyone else seems to have gotten themselves together significantly quicker than he has. Feeling marginally chagrined over this observation, he bites his lip and takes in a deep, calming breath, still feeling some leftover giddiness dancing in his chest that threatens to break free.

Exhaling gradually, decidedly _in-control_ of his emotions, _for the moment_ , his warm breath fogging up the air around him, he glimpses over to where Shane _should_ be.

Only, it seems as if the man has somehow drifted closer to Ryan during his fit. As he lifts his eyes to the other man’s face, he finds himself already under the focus of Shane’s gaze.

The man’s grin has softened immensely, the look in his eyes- if Ryan _dared_ himself to describe it- distinctly _reverent_ , maybe even _tender_ , as he seemingly _takes in_ _all_ of Ryan, like _Ryan_ is something to _adore._

Ryan gulps then, his throat feeling dry, even more so when he sees Shane follow the movement of his Adam’s Apple with his sharp, but gentle stare.

Feeling decidedly brave, even _confident_ in this _thing_ between them, if only for an instant, Ryan lifts a corner of his mouth upwards into what he’d call a teasing smirk. He beratingly acknowledges that it likely comes off instead as a shy, slanted smile- as he closes some of the distance between them.

If Ryan were _truly_ _brave_ , however- he’d, _perhaps_ , reach out to his counterpart and trail a hand down one of Shane’s covered arms, and grip tightly enough that he could feel the man _beneath_ the fabric.

Maybe Shane would wrap own digits around Ryan’s, cup them within a tight cocoon, bring them to his mouth, and share with him the warmth that Ryan’s been desperate to get a taste of since- _who knows how long?_

But, he’s _not_ that brave. At least not _yet_.

He instead shoves his hands into his coat’s pockets, and looks up at Shane through his eyelashes.

“You’re too much for me sometimes, Big Guy. I’m gonna end up popping a _blood vessel_ one day from laughing too hard.” He playfully accuses, narrowing his eyes mockingly.

Those eyes- _those damn eyes_ \- crinkle down at him, just as they did before, his voice calm and hushed within their little huddle as he grins down at Ryan, titling his head to the side contemplatively.

“I’d prefer you with popped blood vessels, rather than you having a literal heart attack from _fright_ , Ry. Gotta keep you distracted, somehow.” With Shane’s hands buried within his own pockets, he gently nudges Ryan in the side with his elbow, not leaving much room in his wake once the lingering contact between them breaks.

He’s standing _so_ close to Ryan at this point, that Ryan can feel each hot puff of air being blown from the taller man’s mouth as he speaks. All he wants to do is close his eyes and bask in the comfort and _familiarity_ surrounding him.

“It’s _kind_ of my job if you think about it, keeping you _sane_.”

_But you drive me insane, every second of every day._

Ryan’s pretty sure, in this moment- no matter how many haunted locations they search, no matter how many _actual_ _demons_ they taunt, no matter how _terrified_ he gets when they sleep in a creepy hotel with creaky floorboards and a thousand ghost stories to its name- that his heart will never beat faster, than when he has Shane Madej looking at him like _that_.

He snorts, his pulse rapidly pounding in his ears, and shakes his head in begrudging amusement. As he tries to get a hold of his bearings, his attention is then drawn towards the looming building that they’re about to trek through and _investigate_.

Its blacked-out windows and cracked walls glare at Ryan in return, causing a chill to run up his spine. At least he has the harsh winter’s night to blame for the shudder that racks through his entire being.

“You’re probably gonna need a raise after this nightmare, if that’s the case. _In fact_ , this one should get you some nice, paid vacation days off, considering how much I’m gonna lose my _freaking_ mind.” He chuckles nervously, pursing his lips in an effort to not give away just _how_ unnerved he truly is.

Frequently, when they arrive at locations for the show, Ryan will get some kind of _vibe_ from the place. Sometimes _not_ , admittedly. But _usually_ , the buildings they enter- _the bad ones,_ _at least_ \- immediately set off blaring alarm bells in his head while his subconscious practically screams at him to _‘get out and never come back, idiot!_ ’

It was something he secretly prided himself on, even when Shane would dismissively push aside his concerns. He’d claim that the _off_ _-_ _energies_ Ryan _‘sensed,’_ as he loved to air-quote, knowing it riled Ryan up, were products of _‘hundred-year-old dust filling your lungs and poor drafting_.’

_Dick._

Nevertheless, this deeply-rooted intuition of hisis one of the main reasons he’s never needed much convincing on the existence of the supernatural and _otherworldly_.

Some places just don’t feel _right_ , and Ryan trusts himself enough to acknowledge when a disconcerting aura is practically being shoved in his face.

_And this place… well, it definitely isn’t putting him at ease, in that regard._

He gulps in another deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the, _no doubt_ _,_ petrifying night ahead of them.

“I’m sure someone could tag-team you out of the ring if it gets to be too much for you to tolerate.”

And Ryan _gets_ it, _really_. He’s the scaredy-cat, the one who freezes at the sight of his own _shadow_ , whose cause of death _would_ likely be from fright alone. And _Shane_ \- he’s always been such a good sport about it, heckling him here-and-there, but never crossing the line into _demeaning_ territory. He knew how to keep things upbeat, but also knew when a situation didn't call for levity. His co-host had remained dutifully by his side, through Ryan’s bests and worsts- consistently acting as a strong, firm source of support whenever Ryan had begun to slowly descend into the madness of his own mind.

However, regardless of having established their roles for _Unsolved_ , Ryan can’t help but feel that, one day, the older man’s seemingly _never-ending_ patience with Ryan- and his _screams_ and _shouts_ and _constant fear_ and regular spews of ‘ _did you hear that?’_ \- would _run out_ _._

And it’s not like Ryan would _blame_ Shane if he eventually got fed up with Ryan’s bullshit, _he’d_ certainly get fed up with _himself_ -

“ _Nah_ , all good here, Little Guy. Somebody’s gotta take care of you, make sure you’re okay,” Ryan’s eyes dart to Shane’s face, startled out of his worries by the low murmur, said with an air of confidence that the older man always speaks with, but with an undertone of _something_.

Bashfulness isn’t a word he’d often associate with Shane, but in that moment, the other man’s words seemed like a timid confession.

He appears to be contemplating his next words considerably, looking at a point just over Ryan’s shoulder, bobbing his head slightly up and down like he does when he’s lost in thought.

“This is a full-time position, _baby_. And I happen to take it _very_ seriously.” He jokingly declares, adding in his standard, goofy, _Shane_ inflections, but his usual timbre is _far_ too low for Ryan to interpret his meaning as anything but _personal_ and _private_ and _intimate_.

And then there’s the way he’s looking at Ryan, right now, like he’s _knows_ _what he’s getting into_ and fucking _accepts_ it and _wants_ it- _God_.

They’re standing so _close_ , and his chest is _bursting_ with pressure, and he’s almost _lightheaded_ and feels like he’s not taking in enough air, but then he focuses on _Shane_ and he can _breathe_ again, and-

“Alright, everybody, we’re rolling again in _one_! Cue _mark_ , and _slate_ for Take Two.”

The loud instructions pierce through their tiny bubble- like a rumbling boom of thunder. And just like that, they’re back to where they were before, somewhere in Connecticut, on a below-freezing night, investigating a supposedly haunted cottage, for an internet show.

Ryan jerks back, as if he’s been shocked by the inevitable bolt of lightning that follows in a storm. Beady eyes wide, heart fluttering rapidly, he hesitantly takes a look around, only to see the crew getting back in their places, no one even throwing a _glance_ in their direction, all too focused on readjusting the equipment.

He breathes out a tired sigh of relief.

It makes him feel better- that no one even suspects that he and Shane are anything _but_ that- just _Ryan and Shane_ , best pals and, _decidedly_ , a duo. He, _himself_ , wasn’t even sure if his and Shane’s- _maybe?_ \- _thing_ was ever actually going to become a real _thing_ , or if it was even a _thing_ to begin with.

He definitely didn’t need some chatty intern catching wind of their _thing_ and making it the next top water-cooler talk _,_ when there might not be anything to even _talk_ about.

_That_ _-_ and the fact that it was _his_ business. And _Shane’s_. So people could keep their nosiness to themselves and kindly _fuck off._

_God_ _help him_ if he’d been reading the signs wrong this whole time. He was _fairly_ confident that he’d been keenly observant thus far, knew what all of the _compliments_ and _not-date hangouts_ and _touches_ and _stares_ meant- or, _should mean_.

But _then_ , of course, there were his ever-present insecurities and anxieties hanging around, telling him that he was making up a fickle fantasy in his head, holding him back from taking the steps which would lead to him being truly _happy_. With Shane.

That was doubt, he _supposed_ , always creeping in, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

_But this thing, whatever it is, feels real, and good, and bright, and there, and theirs, and-_

It only takes one glance at Shane, though, to realize that he has majorly fucked up.

He has an almost blank expression adorning his face, which wouldn’t be considered so unusual for the older man. But the barely concealed disappointment and _hurt_ pinching his features, enough to create a distortion, as he carefully steps back from Ryan in a calculated way, hunching in on himself in a self-conscious kind of way that is so distinctly _not_ Shane- flashes hot, red sparks in Ryan’s mind-

_-And oh, God, it must’ve looked like Ryan was goddammed ashamed of being caught in such close quarters with Shane, like he was afraid of what it implied, what it looked like, like he was some high school teenager getting caught jerking off in their bedroom. Must’ve made him look like the ‘no-homo’ frat boy people joked about him being, even though he could tell they kind of meant it. And Ryan really didn’t care about what other people thought. They didn’t know the real him. But Shane had always given him the benefit-of-the-doubt and accepted him and his ‘bro, bro, bro’ ways, and even fucking knew that Ryan was bisexual because he’d finally confided in Shane, the only other person to know outside of his family and last ex-girlfriend- and fuck, Shane had looked so fucking enthralled and hopeful to hear this information about him, like he could’ve kissed Ryan right there and then with his hand placed so gently on Ryan’s knee- And now he thinks Ryan is gonna be one of those ‘out-of-the-closet-but-still-not-really-out’ kind of guys and who the fuck would ever be embarrassed about having Shane as their boyfriend, that just wasn’t possible, and fuck he needed to reassure this tall-glass of a man who he’d wanted for fucking ages-_

“Shane, I-" Brown eyes dart to his, always warm when aimed at him, a question in them that Ryan hopes he can answer-

“-Ryan. Shane. If you guys are ready to start up again, we’ll go on your readies,” Devon’s interruption flashes a burning flare of irritation through Ryan, which he quickly smothers and feels immediately guilty for. It’s not her fault he’s a fuck-up who can’t get his intentions across without going five-steps backwards, _every_ damn time.

He nods his head demurely, pursing his lips as he focuses his attention forward, to the woods, to the night sky, to the stars.

Anywhere but to his right.

“And _please_ ,” She reprimands lightly, a hint of teasing in her tone, “try and keep the joking minimal. At least until you get the opening statement out. That doubly goes for you, _Shane_.”

Ryan can see Shane shift in his periphery, moving side-to-side as he bobs his head up and down at Devon’s words. However, unlike before, there’s no chance of their jackets rustling up against one another.

Shane is standing at least three times the distance away from him now, than he was before. Ryan’s stomach churns unpleasantly.

“You won’t hear a single peep from me.” Shane’s jovial tone portrays nothing that his _face_ had clearly shown not even moments ago, which he has now, undoubtedly, hidden away for the camera.

Ryan can’t help but think that Shane’s vow of silence doesn’t have anything to do with a sudden urge to be good and follow Devon’s rules.

_Fuck._

Devon, apparently satisfied, nods her head and mutters something to TJ, pointing at one of the light fixtures. Gradually, everyone and everything becomes silent, a poised air settling around them all.

The faint chirp of crickets is a constant in the background as the wind steadily carries on, causing windchimes to melodically echo in the distance, somewhere. Cracked-and-dry brown leaves shuffle along the gravel pitifully, scraping and crunching the whole way.

As Ryan takes in another gulp of chilled air, he can’t help but think that things would feel almost peaceful, if not for the space that makes him feel miles away from Shane.

“Okay, Camera One and Two set, _mark_. Sound-check- _testing_ , _testing_. We good there? Alright, good, good. _And we’re… rolling_!”

Ryan takes a deep breath, releases it slowly, and parts his mouth-

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we investigate the Wickham Pines Estate in New Haven, Connecticut, as part of our ongoing investigation into the question- ‘ _Are ghosts real?_ ’”

**Author's Note:**

> ......SO? What'd you think?! I hope no one minds the fact that this chapter was very thought-heavy, but I felt that it was best to do this, so that we could establish the way Ryan thinks, and set-up what's happening between him and Shane. AND I'M SORRY ABOUT THAT LONG-ASS PARAGRAPH AT THE END BUT IT WAS RYAN BEING INSECURE AND OVERTHINKING, which I think is probably in character for him. I really tried to make everything seem natural and hopefully it got across! 
> 
> Next up, the two of these ghoul bois will be entering Wickham Pines and something bad happens to Ryan...
> 
> Leave a kudos and let me know what you guys thought in the comments below, and if you have a questions for clarification or want to request another Shyan fic, I'd love to hear from ya! Thanks so much everyone! T'ill next time!


End file.
